Allegrezza
by Lialane Graest
Summary: Ladies and gentlemen, the year is 1927 and I hope you will allow me to introduce you to a couple that everyone believed were meant to be together; a couple that made such sweet music that the angels themselves would bend low to the earth to hear. Please allow me to introduce you to Soul Evans and Jacqueline Dupré, and a story of how they came to be together.


**A/N: I am breaking one of my biggest rules here, and one of my biggest pet peeves. If you are writing in the Soul Eater universe (and not an AU) Soul goes by Soul Eater; he doesn't use Evans at all. [rant] STOP REFERRING TO HIM AS SOUL EVANS OR SOUL EATER EVANS! [/rant] However, this is an AU without Shibusen/DWMA and that is the only reason why I am using his original last name.**

* * *

He met her gaze across the stage, looking at her from the corner of his eyes. She blushed, her fingers running up the neck of her cello as she looked back down at her music stand and the score that was spread across it. The conductor tapped his baton on the corner of his stand, sending a crisp clear note through the air, the sound of glass tapping against metal.

Bows were raised into the air, an orchestra adjusted in its seats. Smiles crossed one hundred faces just as curtain rose in the air to applause.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you the London Symphony Orchestra, the finest Symphony Orchestra available for your listening pleasure! And to sweeten your enjoyment of this evening, the Orchestra also includes our very own Wes Evans, and a special accompaniment arranged by his brother Soul Evans on the piano!"

The conductor didn't waste any time once their introduction was over, and the orchestra flung itself into its recital. They performed to quiet applause and cheers, and at the end roses were thrown onto the stage.

It was with a sly smile that Soul picked up one of the roses before it could be trampled, and he waited patiently for the orchestra to leave the stage, his brother coming to stand beside him.

"You're giving that to her, aren't you?" Wes whispered. Soul just nodded.

* * *

Jacqueline's cheeks turned as red as the rose as Soul held it out to her, a smile on his face, though he was careful not to bare his razor sharp teeth at her. She took the rose from him with a smile, and before she could think better of it, she leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you, sir. This is very beautiful," she said quietly.

"Only the most beautiful rose for the most beautiful woman." She gave him a shy smile before grabbing the cello case and moving away from them. One of the other orchestra members took the heavy case from her before they loaded it into one of the buses that was being used to transport the orchestra to the hotel that they would be staying at.

Soul stood beside his brother, a smile on his face still.

"You don't have much time to convince her to stay if you've set your mind on that one, Soul," Wes said.

"I know, I know. They're only playing for another week and then they're back to London."

"Not a lot of time. You can't make the trip to London either."

"Yeah, yeah. It wouldn't be cool of me to go chasing her across the globe either."

"You never know, she might think it was romantic."

Soul just gave a laugh, watching as the bus pulled off. "Let's go, Wes. I need a drink."

"I know just the place."

* * *

"If it isn't the Evans' boys! Your parent don't know you're here, right? Your old man would blow a gasket and burn this place to the ground."

Soul just shook his head as Wes answered, "Of course the he doesn't. He knows we're going to the party for the orchestra, he just doesn't know that we're not going with the rest of the orchestra. He won't expect us for a while. Give us your best."

The man just nodded as the two young men moved to sit down at a table in the speakeasy. A moment later they were swirling bourbon in glasses not meant for it, and speaking in hushes tones.

"I really don't see what you see in her, Soul. She's young. She may be talented, but she's English and going to be leaving in less than a week. Besides, you've just met her."

Soul took a careful sip of the alcohol, exhaling as it burned down his throat. "Now that's good."

Wes glanced up and caught the man's eye that had served them. It took only a tilt of his head for the man to leave the bar and move over to them.

"Yeah?"

"What is this?" Wes asked as he held up his glass, looking at the warm reddish-brown liquid.

"Four Roses bourbon. Kentucky based."

Wes just smiled. "My brother is taken with it. We'll take another bottle."

There was a gleam in man's eye as he nodded and brought the bottle over to the two men. "Don't let your parents catch you with this."

Soul and Wes both laughed. "No worries about that, it isn't going home."

* * *

A couple hours later found them at the hotel that was hosting the visiting orchestra. It was now nearly 11pm, and though some of the lights were on, most were off. The two young men stood outside the door for a moment, the bottle of liquor concealed beneath their heavy coats, the rain sleeting down.

With a bit of a grin Wes pushed the door open. "After you, little brother."

Soul just rolled his eyes, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He refused to name it as butterflies; being nervous was simply not cool. He walked to the concierge of the hotel and asked for her by name, the man looking down at the countertop before back up at Soul. With a laugh the young man put a $10 bill on the table.

A moment later it was gone and Soul knew the room number for Jacqueline Dupré and he and Wes were heading up the stairs. Soul stood outside her door, his hands suddenly sweaty, before knocking.

It was only as his hand fell against the door that he realized that his brother was nowhere to be seen.

He was left alone, standing in front of a woman's door, with a bottle of alcohol tucked into his jacket.

His stomach plummeted as the door opened.

She stood there, a smile on her face, a dark haired angel, the sound of classical music drifting out of her room.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked quietly.

Soul swallowed, his mind blanking at the vision of beauty in front of him, and it took him a moment to remember why he was there. "I found something that you might enjoy, and I wanted to bring it to you personally."

After a glance down the hall to make sure no one was watching he removed the bottle from his breast pocket, and laughed to himself when he saw that it was the full, unopened bottle. He didn't remember Wes switching them.

She looked at the bottle, a smile still on her face, before shattering the illusion in front of him. "I'm sorry, but I can't drink. I leave for London in the morning. The entire orchestra does. We got the news just an hour ago."

Soul's heart fell. Numbly he held out the bottle. "Then take it as something to remember your time in the States by."

She smiled, taking the bottle from him. "Thank you, sir. Do I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

Soul laughed. "Sorry about that, doll! I'm Soul Evans."

Jacqueline looked down at the bottle and then at him. "I suppose I can have a nightcap."

The night passed, Soul not even realizing how long he had stayed until the morning sun's rays fell through the crack in the curtains. They discussed music, what they wanted for their futures, how they had come to be involved with music, their favorite types of music. Sometime during the night they got onto the subject of food and he learned that she loved everything French, despite having never been to the country.

Amid the alcohol, a plan formed in Soul's mind.

* * *

Days passed to weeks, the orchestra having returned home. Jacqueline took her time, nursing the remains of the bottle that Soul had given her before they had left, the man never far from her thoughts, and she mentally scolded herself for looking over to see if there was a piano added each time that they orchestra played.

She would play, her heart missing from her music, and each night return to her parent's home, putting up her cello up and curling up with a book. That was how a servant found her one evening, her feet tucked beneath her, a faraway look in her eyes as she read a book that she had already read.

"Excuse me, miss?"

"Yes?"

"I have a letter for you. It arrived by messenger just now. Very peculiar."

"Peculiar how?"

"The messenger, he had white hair. He said that he would await your response. He's in the parlor, miss."

Jacqueline was too busy opening the letter to answer, her eyes wide as a pair of tickets slid out and into her lap, Paris prominently displayed. She stood and darted towards the parlor, her long, dark hair billowing behind her. The servant chuckled slightly, gathering up the shreds of paper left in her passing.

* * *

Jacqueline stopped outside the parlor door and took a second to compose herself before pushing the door open. He stood there, leaned up against the wall as if he belonged in the home and she was the messenger he was waiting on.

"Mr. Evans, what are you doing here?" she asked, taking a step into the room.

A smirk tugged at his lips, and he took a step away from the wall. "I was simply passing through on my way to Paris and found myself with an extra ticket, doll. I was wondering if I could borrow your company for my trip."

"I have obli-"

"I know that you must play in your orchestra. However, I also know that you have no engagements for the next couple of weeks."

"Isn't this a little bit presumptuous, Mr. Evans?"

"I can easily go alone, Ms. Dupré, I simply thought that given your love of the French culture you would enjoy experiencing it firsthand."

It was only as the color rose in her cheeks that Jacqueline realized that Soul had crossed over to her, and was standing a few feet from her. She blushed even more furiously as he held out a rose he had secreted behind his back.

"Well, Jacqueline, would you come with me?"

She accepted the rose with a small smile. "I would love to."

The servants watching through the crack in the door smiled amongst themselves.

* * *

He spent the night in the Dupré manor, in a room far from Jacqueline's. He was certain that it was intentional, but it didn't matter. They both needed a good sleep; especially since he hadn't slept well on the boat ride over from the States, and he wouldn't sleep well during the ride across to France.

The next morning dawned and they left the manor together, making their way to the docks and Soul presented their tickets. The ride across to France was uneventful, though Soul couldn't keep himself from yawning. They took a private car to Paris, paid for by the Evan's estate.

When they arrived, Jacqueline's eyes were wide. They drove down the Champs-Elysees, the woman's eyes darting around as she tried to take in everything that was going on. She stared up at the Eiffel Tower as they passed near it, quiet exclamations of its beauty on her lips. He found himself thinking that it didn't compare to hers.

Soul laughed silently as he felt her fingers intertwine with his, the woman completely oblivious to it. He let her hand rest in his, a smile on his face as he watched the city slowly pass by.

"Look there!" her voice interrupted his thoughts, "I have heard that Paris has some of the best pastries to be found!"

Soul pulled his attention to where she was pointing, and found that it was a small cafe. He smiled as he leaned up, placing a hand on their driver's shoulder. "Stop there."

"Yes, sir."

A moment later the driver was opening the door for Jacqueline, and Soul was striding around the vehicle. They sat in the cafe and drank black coffee, eating small bites of multiple pastries. Soul took great pains to keep his teeth from showing, but she noticed.

"Your teeth are quite sharp looking. Why is that?" she inquired, her fork held above the plate, a piece of pastry balanced precariously on it.

He gave her a small smile, and was silent for a moment.

"If you don't want to tell me, I'm sorry," she started, but he shook his head.

"It's fine. I was born like this. None of the doctors that my parents took me to could explain it to them. I'm the... black sheep so to say, of my family."

"Black sheep?"

"I'm a little strange, doll."

He watched as she blushed, her voice quiet and small as she said, "I don't think that you're that odd."

"We'll see, doll."

* * *

The next week passed by in a blur of tourism. They had a suite, complete with two sleeping areas, that they were only in to sleep and take their last meal. Jacqueline stayed by his side, one hand interlaced with his, her other pointing out various land marks and sights.

It was on what was supposed to be their last day there, sitting together in the communal eating area, that she spoke in a small voice, regret heavy in it.

"Your business here is over soon, Soul... will this be the last time I see you?"

His hand wrapped around hers and he met eyes that were filled with tears. "I hope not, Jackie."

She sighed, "I hope not. I don't want this to end."

He grinned. "Then it won't."

"What?"

"We can stay here, Jackie. Not in the hotel, but we could get a house here if you wanted."

"Are you-?"

"Marry me."

Her hands clasped over her mouth and she stared at the man sitting across from her.

"I know, it's sudden. I've known since I've seen you, since I heard you play. I traveled from New York just to come see you again. I planned this trip just to be with you. Marry me."

She just gave a nod, tears slipping down her cheeks.

* * *

He was kissing the tears away. It didn't matter to him that they were tears of joy, just that they were tears marring her perfect beauty, tears that he could take care of. Her arms were flung around his neck as he kissed down her jawline, her hand playing in his hair, her fingers threading through the white locks.

It didn't matter to them that they weren't married yet. They would be soon enough, eloped in the city of love, and they would inform their parents later. They were both adults, and now they were ready to play a very adult game.

One that they were both keenly interested in.

He guided her back to the room that he had been sleeping in, the woman sliding into the crisp sheets, changed earlier in the day by the hotel staff. Soul pulled his shirt off, Jacqueline looking up at the scar on his chest in wonder.

"How?" she asked quietly, her fingers trailing over it and leaving a series of goose bumps in their wake.

"An accident when I was a child."

"There's so much I don't know about you..." she said wonderingly, and he almost didn't catch the small kernel of doubt in her tone.

He kissed her, lying on his side beside her with his arm wrapped around her waist, gently and softly before pulling back. "We have our whole lives to find everything out about each other."

She gave him a smile, her arms wrapping around his neck to bring him back down for another kiss. "I am happy for that."

"And I am going to make you even happier," he promised quietly, rolling swiftly to straddle her, his lips finding her neck.

She moaned underneath him. He trailed kisses up and down her neck; one of her hands grasped his forearm, the other clenched the pillow above her head. He placed a kiss in the hollow of her throat, and she arched her back against him.

He let some of his weight settle against her, and her eyes opened as she felt him press against her.

Her hand moved from his arm to let her fingers hook in one of his belt loops, and he smirked when he felt her tug on it.

"Are you sure you want this, doll?" he asked quietly, and he was rewarded with her breathy voice against his ear as she pulled his head to the side of her throat.

"I'm sure."

It was all that he needed. His hands ran up her sides, pulling her shirt with them. He trailed light kisses along her chest and throat, leaving her bra on as he kissed his way down her stomach. It was a simple matter after that to remove her skirt, his hand brushing lightly against her as he looked down at her.

Her hand moved as he stood there, taking in the sight of her in all her glory, and she took the opportunity to unzip his trousers. They fell to the floor, and he was left standing in just his boxers, her hand hesitantly rubbing against the obvious arousal.

He was in the bed again beside her in a movement, his lips on hers as she gasped. His hand rubbed against her, eliciting small moans and gasps as he continued to kiss her. He could feel himself growing harder, and when her hand breached his boxers and wrapped around him he couldn't stop the moan that came from his throat.

_'So uncool...'_ he thought to himself, a smirk on his lips as he let his own hand slide down and underneath the elastic of her underwear, rubbing against her slickness before slipping in. She cried out, a wordless sound that was nothing but pleasure, and the feeling it evoked in him was almost painful.

He strained in her hand, his body wanting to react on instinct as she tugged lightly, letting her hand move up his shaft. He groaned at the pleasure that washed through his body, and almost whimpered when she let go to tug on his boxers.

"Soul... please," she said quietly, slowly, her breath a panting gasp.

He understood, and let his hand run down to pull at her underwear as his other tugged his boxers the rest of the way off. She raised her hips to let him slide them off, and then he moved cautiously over her. He rubbed his head against her, feeling the heat that was radiating off of her. She moaned and arched her back, his head pushing into her slightly. He slid his hands down to rest on her hips before lifting her up slightly, and entering her slowly.

She cried out as he did so, and he hesitated, thinking he may have hurt her. The sudden roll of her hips against his, coupled with a moan that she couldn't have stopped if she wanted to, let him know that there was nothing near pain being experienced by the woman on the bed below him. He pressed against her, burying himself in her, letting the pleasure of being surrounded by her suffuse him, and pressed his lips against hers.

She pulled a groan from him as she pressed her hips upward, grinding against him, and he snapped his hips forward, drawing an almost scream from her. With a smirk he started to move in and out, Jacqueline arching desperately up against his thrusts. The pleasure built and built, but with it came a headache that Soul was all too familiar with.

A discordant note overwhelmed him as he buried his length in her, the woman below him crying out, and he could see a figure behind his eyes, words whispering in his head, _"Ah, you two will make such lovely music together."_

He pulled out only to slam into her again, ignoring the harmony that was trying to spread to her, and focused only on the sweet notes of her voice, the cries she gave as he picked up the pace, the tempo of her heartbeat beneath the breast that he was massaging through her bra. Her voice rose in a crescendo as his other hand rested on her hip, pulling her back against him as he thrusted into her, and it reached its peak as she cried out, her body tightening and shuddering around him.

He forced himself to pull out once she hand finished, and her hand wrapped around his cock, running up it as skillfully as it had ran up the neck of her cello. She sat up slightly, propped up on one hand, and brought her lips against his, squeezing slightly.

It was too much for him, and he gasped as he came, her grip loosening so that he spread across the sheets.

He looked down at the woman that was smiling up at him and smiled back as she moved slightly, wrapping herself in the unsoiled top sheet.

"Well, doll, think you could get used to living here with me?"

She just gave a laugh and kissed his nose as he sprawled out on the bed, blocking her view of the mess he had made. "I can't think of anyone else I would rather be with, Soul."

He smiled as she left to go clean up, and turned to look at the bed sheet. As he had feared, the stain wasn't white, but black. He shook his head, wondering what it meant, even though he already knew.

He would tell her, given time, when it was important. But for now, he just wanted to enjoy her company.

* * *

**A/N: This took /forever/ to write, and I am sorry it took so long. Major writer's block. I hope that you enjoyed, Greyvss :) I don't own Soul Eater.**


End file.
